"The folk are all well here, both bairns and grown folk, and we will be blithe to hear from you, and if you have the time to send a scraps of your pen to your auld maiden aunt, that mony a time (though Lord knows not half often enough) has garred your lugs ring for your misdeeds--she will be pleased to hear if the butter and cheese were some kitchen to your tasteless town's bread. "Your obdt. servt. and affectionate aunt, "Janet Lyon." From this information I hoped great things--at least a letter demanding pardon from Irma, or an account of how she had confessed all from that graceless and thankless forgetful besom Charlotte. But I heard nothing further till, one day going past after another, about a twelvemonth after amazing word came. It was when I was busy with some literary work I had gotten from one of the printers in the town--correcting proofs and looking out for misspellings in the compositions of an eminent hand. I will be plain--it was poor work, and as poorly paid. But I could live on it, and in any case it was better than slaving at tutoring. That is, as tutoring was at that time in Edinburgh--a dull boy whom none could make anything of, insolent servants, sneering elder sisters and a guinea a month to pay for all. However, I tried it and made some of them stop sneering--at least the sisters. I was, I say, in the Rankeillor Street lodgings and Amelia was going out at the door with my tea-things--as usual calling me names for "idling within doors" when Fred was out at his classes. Freddie had private permission from one of the professors to read in his library, so often did not come home till late. But I stuck to my arm-chair and my printer's slips like a burr to homespun. Suddenly there was a great noise on the stairs. "There," cries Amelia, "that's one of your countrymen, or I'm no judge of the Galloway bray!" For, as I have indicated before, Amelia was far from imitating her mother's English politeness. The next moment the front door was driven in with a mighty brange against the wall (for Amelia had been out the moment before on the landing to throw some turnip-tops on the ash "backet"). A huge man in many swathes of riding-coat dashed in and caught me by the throat. Amelia had the two-pronged carving fork in her hand, and seeing her mother's lodger (as she thought) in danger of being choked to death, without having regulated his week's bill, she threw herself upon my assailant and struck vehemently with the fork. The huge man in the many capes doubtless suffered no grievous harm. It had hardly been possible for a pistol-ball to penetrate such an armature, but still the sudden assault from behind, and perhaps some subtle feminine quality in Amelia's screams, made him turn about to see what was happening.